


Game

by orphan_account



Category: Hiveswap
Genre: AFAB!reader, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Face Sitting, Fluff and Smut, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Light Dom/sub, Other, Spanking, bottom!marvus, but i kept the reader's gender ambiguous otherwise, includes one line of pure psychic bullshit that i just made up, power bottom!reader, showering together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-11 21:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17454626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Marvus is late- not unusual for him. But you were planning on that, weren't you? Sometimes, all you can do is set the scene and wait.





	Game

He's late.

  
Twenty seven minutes late, actually. You cross your arms and settle back into his couch, puffing out your cheeks before letting it out an exasperated breath. One thing Marvus was consistently not good at was being on time, for all that he was otherwise dependable.

  
To be fair to him, you _were_ actively counting on this fact to use to your advantage tonight. You wanted to play a game with him. You were dressed nicely for a dinner date- a dinner date that you never sincerely intended to get around to. You even wore your favorite pants- they accentuated your legs and fit on your hips just right. But beneath those pants, you were starting to sweat a bit; lingerie keeps you a lot warmer than you'd expected. Or maybe you're just a little nervous. You remove your jacket and unbutton another button on your shirt as you sweat in your seat, fanning your face and lifting the hair away from your head to circulate the air around your neck and scalp.

  
You hear the door open and close- it seems like you don't have time to be nervous, it's go time.

  
You cross your legs, your foot tapping a rhythm in the air in mock-irritation. You'd planned this out perfectly- as Marvus enters the foyer, your irate posture and pouting face is the first thing he sees.

  
"wazzup babe?" he says, a nervous smile on his face. Fuck, you are so thankful you spoke about this in advance. He's playing beautifully and willingly into your trap- his hands curling nervously into each other, his posture low, loose and submissive. He knows that he's in trouble.

  
You stand slowly, making a show of disregarding him and wiping off any imaginary dust that may have settled onto you as he waits for a response. You look up at him- he tilts his head at you, letting curiosity and interest bleed through his sheepish expression. Actually, he looks really cute tonight- behind his ear he's braided a little red ribbon with a gold bell in his hair and you wonder if it's for you. You almost feel guilty for what your about to do to him.

  
"You're late," you state without fanfare. You cross your arms again and tilt you head back slightly- as if you could ever look down your nose at him- and you expose your neck, knowing this would catch his interest. On cue, his eyes flicker down and then quickly back up to your face. And just like that, the scene is set.

  
"aw babe im real sorry bout dat. had a motherfxxker known he'd be coming home 2 dis, i woulda got my skeet skoot on." He lowers his voice along with his eyes, then narrows his gaze on you. He's growing a bit too bold in his flirting- no! This was your game, damn it!

  
"I went out of my way to dress up for you- I was really looking forward to seeing you," you pout. Ouch, that was real hurt you were feeling. You realize that you hadn't actually seen him in a few weeks, between his busy schedule and your needy friends. He picks up on this and softens his expression at you.

  
"wat, u sayin u took a long time 2 get ready or sumn? you coulda just rolled outta da coon and looked wicked and hot as all hell babe ;o)" You smile wickedly at him before reaching up to grab him by his collar. He allows that, bringing his face to yours, but instead of kissing him, you catch his lower lip between your teeth, biting him. He groans at this, low and needy at his throat, and you tug, dragging your teeth along his lip as you pull away from his face.

  
You press your nose beside his, your eyes closed and breath washing over his face as you croon at him in a low voice. "I'm really disappointed, Marvus." You press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth before turning to walk up the stairs without a backwards glance. Halfway up, you turn to toss him a flirtatious look, tilting your hips, enticing him to you. He's broadcasting his interest through every line of his body- ears forward, eyes intense, back straightened- and he's making that face he makes when wants to console you, to hold and kiss you. Not tonight. You refuse to be consoled. You look back at him with what you hope is a predatory look, clutching at the stairwell railing for courage.

  
"You know I'm going to have to punish you."

  
His eyes widen before he nods knowingly. You're still feeling a bit nervous, but it's worth it to see this side of him- he's eager to give you complete control, letting you guide the scene, taking your cues. Once the two of you make it to his respite block, you turn on him. He halts in his steps, keeping a respectful distance, and you point 'down.' He settles down onto his knees, scooting forward to wrap his hands steadily around your hips and kissing you softly on your belly. He looks up at you, apologetic and guilty and excited, and nuzzles into you. He sneaks his fingers under your shirt, testing your boundaries, and you reprimand him with a soft 'not yet.'

  
You grab him softly by his forearms and pull him back with you towards what he calls a 'concupiscent platform'- it's just a huge mattress, piled high with soft pillows and blankets. You sit down, straightening your back and leave him on his knees in front of you, deciding where to go with this.

 

You extend your foot towards him invitingly.

  
He wouldn't be a good performer if he didn't pick up on cues, and, as expected, he doesn't disappoint you now. He leads a meandering trail of lazy kisses from your ankle up to your thigh as he rubs his hands over the muscles of your legs, working out the tension. It's exactly what you need and you should have known better than to think he couldn't read you just as well as you can read him- you're tense with anticipation and nerves. You allow him to unzip your pants with one hand, and you help him out by sitting up to help take them off. He continues his trail of kisses and the firm ministrations of his hands down your other leg, giving you a possessive nip right above where your thigh spills out above your stocking, and then back down to the other ankle. You're dizzy with the sight of him between your legs- his face framed between your thighs (which are looking, quite frankly, exquisite, spilling out softly from your pair of pink and purple patterned thigh highs) with heavy eyes and mouth parted with the desire to taste you. You almost take pity on him, except he bites you again, harder this time, and you make up your mind.

  
You push him away, gently but firmly, with your foot. "You're just causing more trouble for yourself. First you leave me waiting here, all alone, and then you think you can bite me without asking?" You tsk at him, unbuttoning your shirt and making a motion indicating that he should stand. He does so, and you pat your thighs invitingly. He makes a submissive chirp at that, smiling at you, goofy and nervous all at once, and you watch him rush to shimmy out of his pants, pull his shirt up over his head, and lay his body in your lap.

  
You gingerly brush his hair out of your way, off to the side- you hear the bell jingle lightly and do your best to suppress a smile- then rub at the soft flesh of his ass. "How many is that worth?" you ask, patiently.

  
"twunny..."

  
"What's that?" you scold.

  
"twun-twenty" he draws out the second 't' this time.

  
"That's right." You draw your arm back and-

  
WHACK

  
"One!" he grunts. You know you aren't exceptionally strong, especially by troll standards, but your workout sessions with Nihkee and Stelsa have given you enough arm strength to affect him, at least. You soothe him briefly, then take your hand to the other cheek.

  
"Two!" he moans. He looks over his shoulder at you, contrite and lusty and sweet. You stick your tongue out at him playfully, making sure he understands that you'll stop if he asks you to- he nods, then you continue with the scene.

  
He calls out the number with each spank, stuttering over some syllables, begging and gasping at you (and he's very polite suddenly, with his 'please's and 'would you-'s and you briefly wonder if there's a clown finishing school). He starts wiggling his hips to simultaneously get closer to you and avoid your punishing hands. He gets to nine before you start to feel his arousal hit you. His scent is heavy in the air, his nook spilling purple down his thighs and into your lap. You love him, you want him, you feel like you can't get enough of this. He's being so well behaved for you. You give his nook a few wet, gentle paps, and he gasps and writhes at you, arching his back, then you continue.

  
By nineteen, his cheeks have a purple flush to them. Not bad, you think. It's a good color on him, but you think it'd be a better color on you. He starts to tremble, anticipating your final slap, and you reel back and really let him have it.

  
"TWEH- TWENTY!" he calls, stuttering a bit and squirming on your lap. He's breathing hard, his bulge wiggling insistently, trying to squirm its way between your thighs.

  
"That's my good boy," you praise. "You did so well for me." He looks at you over his shoulder and you smile back at him. His hands are clutching in the fabric of the bed, so you lean over and rub your hands on him, alleviating the tension between his shoulders. He sighs at that, relaxing slightly, and you run your hands affectionately over his hair and down his back- wow, he's really sweaty, his heart is racing. You know he would never hurt you, but you can't help but wonder what instinct is so powerful that he has to work so hard to hold himself back like that. You feel a flush of pride- you did that to him, and he's helpless beneath you.

  
"You've been such a good boy for me-" he smiles up at you, all wobbly and sweet, shifting from his belly to his back, alternately making submissive chirps and, honest to god, straight up giggling at you as you lean into him to kiss him all over his face and run your hands through his hair.

  
"You doing okay?" you ask him softly. He nods at you, "jus need a sec" he says, so you nod and then back off, following his lead. Your poor Marvus- when you pull away from him, you notice tear tracks down his face. You wipe them away, shooshing and soothing him, rubbing his belly and stroking his hair. You whisper sweet words to him, tell him that you love him, and he nods as you continue, rubbing small circles along his sides. He purrs and slowly relaxes, but you still aren't finished with him just yet.

"Look at you.." you purr, "...so needy..." You trail your hands from his face and back down his body to spiral your fingers around his bulge before running them along the lips of his nook "...so wet for me." His nook clenches at you, trying desperately to drawn your fingers inside him. You pull away instead, a trail of his wetness following your fingers. Hell yeah. _You_ did that! "Beg for me," you command sweetly.

 

"Please," he whines, "lemme taste u, i wanna please u, want 2 hear the, the sounds you make, fxxk..." He trails off, calling your name and trilling- calling to you, craving your touch. His legs tense and squeeze together in an attempt to provide some pressure to his nook; his bulge curls back on itself shamelessly against the taught lines of his stomach. You weren't expecting him to get it right on the first try, but, hey, you aren't complaining. You help him up- he tries straddling you, leaning his weight on you in an effort to get you closer to him, but you use the small amount of leverage you have on him to push him back on the bed and wrap your legs around his waist. He looks up at you, questioning, as he hovers his hands around your waist. You nod as you maneuver some pillows under his head in order to get him comfortable. He grabs at you greedily and starts to pull you up towards his face- it seems that he's eager for what's coming next. You sit up a little taller and start to wiggle your underwear down. He's whining in earnest now, desperate for you, trying to catch your scent. You're a lot wetter than you'd realized, your pussy is practically begging you to get on with it. Stupid sexy Marvus, you thought you were in control here.

 

You turn around instead and present yourself to him. "This what you want?" you ask huskily. You wiggle your hips a little, it feels like you're dripping onto him- you imagine leaving drops of your wetness on his chest with a thrill.

 

"FXXK yes please, please give it 2 me, i'd do whatever u need, i gotta have u," the two of you struggle for a minute, trying to move the mass of his hair out of the way, before you move to slowly seat yourself backwards onto his face, hands flat on his chest to keep steady. He's on you in an instant, his hands gripping your hips and his lips softly mouthing at your lower lips before he takes you into his mouth.

 

"Oh..." you whimper. He's.. well, there's no sexy way to describe it, he's slurping at your pussy like a thick milkshake; it's really noisy. It feels incredible, though, his tongue alternately teasing at your clit and pushing up into your entrance as his lips tease and lightly suck at you. You were already close, but you're desperate now, your walls clenching as you push back insistently against his face, searching for more, more pressure, more of his tongue and his lips. You start gyrating your hips and letting out the sounds of your pleasure to the room. "Marvus! Oh fuck, that's, hah, that's really good," you praise him. He hums out a little moan, his hand reaching for you, and you lace your fingers with his, gripping him tightly as you come, the force of your pleasure stopping your breath as you fall, boneless, forward onto him. His head follows you forward, hands coming forward to support you as he continues to pleasure you until you're all noodley and relaxed. He helps to settle you next to him, running his hands in your hair and around your waist. You start to laugh, you're breathless with love and post-orgasm bliss, and he joins you, bringing his forehead to yours, trying to bond with you, drawing you closer to him. You reach out to him, mentally, like he taught you. Looking at your face and into your eyes, he pulls you in. At the front of his mind, lust, like you’d expect, and affection and desire, pride and giddiness. But deeper, there’s desperation, anxiety- he wants you to touch him already. You can only imagine what answers he finds in your mind. It's time to get on with it.

  
"You want me to make you come? Are you ready for me?" You can feel that he's more than ready for you- he bulge has been writhing insistently against you despite his prodigal act of patience and his body is tense with holding back. Still, you wait patiently for his answer.

  
"Please," he begs, his voice barely a whisper. You push him onto his back again and grind yourself lightly against his leg, teasing him. He groans and closes his eyes, the effort of holding himself back evident in every line of every tense muscle in his body. His claws dig into the skin of your back.

  
"Please," he begs again, his voice a siren's call. You grab him with both hands by his wrists, biting little marks into his neck and kissing his chest, holding him down as you make your slow way to his nook.

  
"Please," he calls to you, his voice love and longing and oh-so-desperate. You settle down on the floor, your knees on a pillow, and pull him roughly by his hips to the edge of the bed, putting his nook on display. It's beautiful, really. Georgia O'Keefe was really onto something- the way his inner lips spill out of him, flushed delicately purple against the light gray of his skin- it really does remind you of an orchid. "I want you." you tell him, as if that wasn't obvious with the way you can barely keep from staring. You're practically drooling. "My Marvus, you're always out there taking care of so many people. But who takes care of you?" you ask.

"You do," he breathes. You hum in approval as you slowly bring his legs up onto your shoulders, sneaking one of your hands under his leg and around to keep his bulge still. He lets out a little puff- half pleasure and half a plea- as you slowly bring your other hand to his nook. You tease with two fingers at his entrance- this still fucks you up beyond belief, how wet he gets. The sight of him dripping for you makes your gut drop and swoop like you're on a roller coaster. You curse at him, fondly, and slowly press into him,  the heel of your hand pressing against the root of his bulge. He keens at this, his nook stuttering at you and drawing your fingers ever deeper as his legs grab you behind your back, pulling you forward to him. That sucks for your wrist unfortunately, and you're sort of stuck there until his legs release you and you're knuckle deep in him. You shallowly thrust into him, doing your best to draw circles with the heel of your hand against the base of his bulge in tandem with your movement, before deciding that was just, _way_ too much work and lowering your hand to bring your face to him. When you change the angle of your hand, you sneak a third finger into him as he gyrates his hips against your mouth, and he's gasping and panting above you, back arched and legs shaking. You grab him and pull him impossibly closer, nosing at his nook and kissing his thighs before diving back in. Your other hand is busy stroking his bulge affectionately with your thumb- he's close, if the intermittent pulsing of his nook and tight curl of his bulge is any indication. You look up at him, but he's really too far gone to do much more than moan your name and pant and wiggle above you. You keep your pace, then, which seems to be exactly what he wants. He's dripping in earnest now, genetic material flowing out of his nook and down your chin and leaking from his bulge. Fuck, you forgot how messy this is. He's beautiful and desperate and you love this. You love him. You hum against him some more, in your best approximation of a purr, and it's all over. His nook clenches painfully tight around you, his bulge curls heavy around your hand, and then both pulsate as his genetic material leaves him. He holds his breath as he comes, the tension of his body looks almost painful until he comes down from it, breath leaving him in a deep sigh, moaning and gasping and calling your name.

You kiss him right above his retreating bulge, making your way onto the bed, and he smiles wide and sleepy up at you. You kiss him chastely on the forehead (and, yuck his facepaint is all wet from sweat and sticks to your lips), then both of his cheeks before you get to his lips. He smiles into your kiss, bringing his hand gently to the back of your head to keep you there. You pull away to lean your forehead into his. Fuck yeah, trolls love that shit, and Marvus proves it by purring at you and you feel the lines of his face pull taut into an even wider, sillier smile. He's... a mess- his genetic material pooling around him and spilling onto the bed, sweat beading on his forehead and under his arms, his face paint all awry. You pull him up with you and together, somehow, you make it to the bathroom.

You turn the shower on, removing your stockings and testing the temperature of the water, as he removes his facepaint, and you step inside together. His shower is luxurious- he has close to a million hair care products and face cleaners, and multiple places to sit, although you have to admit that the huge clown mural on the back wall is not your favorite. Actually, even calling it a shower may a bit disingenuous- it's more of a sauna with running water. He sits down on a wooden bench near the stream of water, handing you a bottle of shampoo. You scrub it into his hair as he tells you all about his day- the way he thinks two of his camera crew might be waxing pitch for each other, how well his fans responded to his flow, his pride at how huge the crowd was tonight. You listen patiently, happy to spend time with him, as you wash the suds out of his hair. He washes yours next as you regale him with tales of your friends, how you think that two of them may be ashen for you but you can't quite figure out their quadrant situation, expressing sadness at how lonely some of them are, and frustration at others. He listens intently, laughing with you and teasing you about possible pale feelings for some of them. You stand together and wash each other's bodies, holding each other close, before stepping out to dry off. 

You have your favorite pair of pajamas here at his hive, and he even bought the two of you matching slippers, although, with your warmer blood, your feet are never quite as cold as his. You slide comfortably into your set of pajamas, and help him to rub scented oil into his damp hair, before leaving. It's a bit too warm for you in there. He seems to know that you have no patience to wait for him to dry his hair tonight, because he joins you shortly in his respite block with his hair piled high in a messy bun atop his head. That's going to be a real pain to deal with tomorrow, but you decide not to dwell on it.

You've turned on troll netflix, looking for something light for you to relax to as he orders a flavor disk for dinner- beetles and grubsauce for him, vegetarian for you. He directs you to a clown related sitcom that looks suspiciously like The Office (who would have guessed that troll!Michael Scott was devoutly religious?), before wrapping his arm around you and settling you into his side. You're looking forward to finally getting to your dinner date.

 

**Author's Note:**

> *singing at the top of my lungs* THIS BOY IS A BOTTOOOOMMM  
> I'm going to rewrite this in the future- i can see places where i think its a little clumsy but!! I'm focused on moving forward and getting better with experience. Thank you everyone for your kind words and support ❤️!
> 
> Find me @clusband on tumblr!


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